Flash A Smile (Revision)
by FollowTheReaper01
Summary: For such a happy person Barry seems to understand the worst kind of pain. (Teenage West-Allen)
1. Flash A Smile

**(Trigger Warning: language, depression, suicide attempt, self-harm and smoking.)**

 **Central City, 2006**

Barry sat on the bathroom floor with the shower on and his Mp3 player turned to the maximum volume.

He stared hopelessly at the fixtures of the bathroom walls.

A visit to Iron Heights prison had sent the teenager keeling over the edge.

He began hacking at his wrists with a razor blade.

Welts appeared on his arms as it slowly began to bleed and swell.

It got a little manic.

Barry felt like clawing out something inside of him.

How this helped he didn't know.

The guilt had started to weigh on him.

The guilt of him being the reason his dad was in prison.

Being trapped on an endless train to nowheresville while his mother's killer got away.

He made another cut.

Was her killer out there out there now?

Living it up while his family suffered?

A wave of anger shot through him to the point his arms were now completely mutilated.

 _It hurt._

He knew it would hurt but Barry had been told this pain was suppose to feel good.

That it would make things better.

It didn't.

It just added to the pain.

Barry sniffled and leaned back into the confines of his large black hoodie.

He changed a song.

Iris knocking made him jump 12 feet out of skin.

"Barry? Hurry up, you've been in there for an hour!"

The teenager lept to his feet, "Just a second!"

He stripped as fast as lightening.

Barry jumped in the shower not expecting the sting.

When hot water hit his skin he let out an agonized silent scream.

Another knock.

"Barry?"

He cradled his arm close to chest then hesitantly moved it out back under the water.

His pain levels spiked again.

Barry dropped to his knee's, water running down his face and blinding him.

Drops of blood oozed down the drain.

The blood was the best part.

It was just so enticing.

Barry totally got it if this was the reason people did it.

The thought of him being just another stupid teen cliche made Barry spit curse words.

Who cared?

Barry didn't give a fuck what the world thought about him.

The pain was just crashing down on him so hard he couldn't breath.

He wanted to cry until his eyes bled.

Scream until his voice died.

Maybe if he did cut a little deeper he would be able to see his mom.

"Barry? Are you okay?" Joe asked.

Barry tried to answer in the lightest tone possible, "Yeah, I'm okay."

The detective responded in a parenting manner, "Well you better get your butt out of the shower now, Iris needs to get ready for work."

"...Okay Joe."

Barry hissed as he reached to twist the knob.

The water vanished.

He could only thank God it was winter or else there would have been no way to hide his self-mutilation.

The physical pain didn't make him feel better.

It just made him feel worse.

Yet another emotional weight to carry.

Barry made sure there wasn't any lingering blood anywhere and dried off.

Gingerly putting back on the hoodie and opening the door.

Iris wasn't there.

Barry passed her room and said, "Iris! Shower's free."

"Thank God!" The eccentric girl slapped a magazine down on her bed and walked past him. "What were you, living in there?"

Barry gave a half-hearted smile.

He rubbed his eye.

 _His cuts weren't that deep did it even count?_

 _Was this even happening?_

Barry couldn't be sure of anything but the lingering stings and the strong chance Joe might find out.

It made him terrified beyond belief and multiple scenarios began to wrack up in his brain until Barry was in a downright panic.

 _How fast would they heal?_

 _Would the swelling ever go down?_

 _Would he do it again?_

Barry grabbed his Mp3 and put it on repeat.

A sad, musical assamble filled his ears.

Barry stared out his window.

No longer tempted to smash it as he was earlier.

Cutting did nothing for him.

Barry had had no momentarily relief.

How could he get that?

Could it be found in Iris?

In their friendship and his secret adoration?

He absently picked at his baggy sleeve and didn't see Joe come in.

"Hey Barry...you wanna go grab a slice and watch the Superbowl later?"

The boy nodded, "Sure. I can't promise I won't eat the whole box."

"Oh I know you will. That's why I'm getting you and Iris your own."

Barry chuckled.

He consciously pulled his arm in closer as he talked with his surrogate father.

 _Please don't notice please don't notice_.

He didn't.

The police detective left in the same mood he came in with.

 _Happy_.

And completely unaware.

His heart pounded.

He could pretend to be happy couldn't he?

Barry never had to pretend around Iris.

He was always happy with her.

But why did Barry feel like breaking down at the same time?

 _Why couldn't he be happy?_

For real.

And not pretend?

Why couldn't he seem to get out of this depression?

Barry exhaled, and adjusted his headphones.

He never had this much baggage to deal with since he was 11 and his mom was murdered.

 _His mom was murdered his mom was murdered_.

How many fucking kids could honestly say that about themselves?

It didn't feel like something Barry could deal with.

 _It never did_.

Tears fell down his face and his chin trembled.

Then he climbed out his window and took off for the Central City Park.

It was right around the corner.

Barry wrapped his coat tighter around him so the frosty chill couldn't get to him.

He found his stash of cigarettes and lit one up, pale hands shaking.

He inhaled the calming smoke with gusto.

Barry closed his eyes and finally felt at ease.

He smoked and walked around until it grew dark.

He knew Joe would be looking for him.

Barry ran back to the house awaiting the shake down he was about to get.

(Hopefully he would be able to get the smell off him before that happened.)

He climbed back in his window and closed it gently, hissing as his injured wrists moved.

"You're late."

The 16 year old science prodigy cringed, "Yeah sorry about that Joe."

"You take a smoke?"

Barry's eyes widened.

Joe leaned back on the bed casually, "Relax. You honestly didn't expect me to find out? Barry, I'm a police detective and smelling like a chimney is your very own personal axe colon."

" _Shit_ ," he mumbled under his breath. Then, "I'm sorry Joe."

"I bet your sorry. Now...what are we going to do about this?"

Silence.

"I don't know."

"How about you come with me on every smoking related crime scene?" Joe offered.

Barry gulped, "They have those?"

"Oh you bet. Quiet a few in fact."

..."Promise you won't tell Iris?"

"I think she already knows."

The lanky boy nodded, never meeting his gaze.

..."Barry what's going on? And don't deny it."

"... _Nothing_ ," he finally whispered. "Nothing at all."


	2. I Ran So Far Away

Barry stared at his reflection in the mirror.

Underneath his eyes were dark.

As for his gaze it was hopeless.

The teen held his arm close against his frame.

Never had the limb been so cared for.

 _And mutilated_.

It was pink and swollen and got even worse as the cuts over lapped each other.

A large part of him was horrified.

The rest wanted it to heal faster so he could do it again.

Day two and no one had noticed.

 _It still hurt_.

The slightest brush against frabic and the brunette was hissing.

Doing dishes was a nightmare.

Thankfully nobody was in the house when Barry managed to get it all done.

It was strange.

One second he was tearing his arm apart and the next he was so ginger with it you'd think it was gold.

Didn't he deserve the pain?

...

 _Well didn't he?_

The teen just slumped to the floor and cried.

Cried until his head hurt.

Til the room was spinning.

Barry's eyes flicked about the room in a daze.

He sniffed, wiping his nose with a extended sleeve of his hoodie.

Barry yanked it back all the way to his elbow, aggressively.

 _Day two..._

Day two and it was still marred.

 _Still ugly_.

' _Fucking coward_ ,' his eyes closed.

He couldn't even do this right.

It was more scratches than anything.

Horrible, breath taking guilt nearly killed Barry.

And a deep, dark feeling of self hatred and self-abuse.

He couldn't do anything right.

 _Not this._

Not his relationship with Joe.

His love for Iris.

His quest to take down his mother's killer.

None of that.

Guilt.

Guilt.

Guilt.

 _Pain_.

Swarm of soul crushing agony.

 _Self-worthlessness_...

Barry repeatedly thumped his head against the wall.

 **A hard slam**.

Physical pain.

It felt good.

That angry release.

Barry nearly broke his arm hitting the wall.

He wanted to tear his hair out.

Kill something.

Prove to the world that they were right.

 _'Barry was "troubled."_

 _'Barry needed to see a gazillion shrinks a day!'_

 _'He was a sweet kid, a genius really. He just needed to get out of this dark mood he was in.'_

Those were the adults.

They'd whisper to Joe about his mother but never _ever_ in front of Barry.

Kids were so way much worse.

" _You gonna kill me like you did mommy?"_

A dam broke.

More tears fell.

Barry's face crumpled and turned a dark shade of purple.

A quivering hand covered his display.

Shoulders shook like an earthquake.

" _What's the matter psycho?"_

 _"Guy's a freak."_

 _"Hey...Hey!" A slap to the head. "Hey ALLEN! Stick me with it. Ya know?"_

 _Barry never looked in his direction._

 _"HEY! You like to knife people have a go at me. I DARE YOU."_

 _"...I'm not a murderer."_

 _"Not what I hear."_

The teen curled his frame in against the bathroom wall and hugged his knees, face buried.

Back when he was 11 Barry was a little more open about his defense.

It ended up in fights.

Them chasing him for blocks.

At 16 his "reputation" got taunts and the occasional tough guy picking on him but most people steered clear.

They thought he was dangerous.

The only person who didn't seem to think he was crazy was Iris.

Barry gulped in a gasp of air.

He needed to cut.

He needed to.

 _He needed it._

 _He needed it._

 _FUCKING HELL HE NEEDED IT_.

Barry slowly slid out a blade.

He placed it against his skin.

 _One cut._

Didn't even break the skin.

He wasn't sure how actual knives worked.

He repeated the motion until it was a red.

A solid dark, red line.

Barry reached to pull up his pant leg.

 **FLASHASMILEFLASHASMILEFLASHASMILE**

PATHETIC.

It was jagged.

Covered his entire lower leg.

In big blocky words.

He didn't know why he did it...

Barry stared at it with tunnel vision.

His body hummed in a agitated numbness.

Tear tracks stained his cheeks and neck.

More cuts sat on his arms.

This controlled out let was quickly becoming uncontrollable.

Maybe that was a good thing...

Maybe Barry should kill himself.

Oh how he wished.

Every breath was painful.

The dream, the wish...

It couldn't get him to actually pull the trigger.

A light turned on in the boys head.

 _Gun_...

Joe was a detective...

He had an issued weapon in his closet and sock drawer.

The desire, the temptation grew stronger.

It actually brought Barry to his feet.

" _Sorry mom_ ," he thought, " _Sorry dad. Guess I wasn't strong enough...please don't hate me...please, PLEASE don't hate me for this..."_

He wiped off the tears in a hurry.

The tension in the air affected him physically.

Everything, every single inch of him trembled in quaking vibrations.

The door knob turned.

 **"Barry!"**

His heart screamed.

He jumped five feet in the air.

Iris stood a hairs breath away from his nose.

Her hands rested on her hips.

Not unlike the former Mrs. West.

"Barry, what's going on? You've been in here for hours. Have you been crying?"

He responded with a head duck.

 _All he could do was imagine the heavy cold weapon in his hand..._

"Is this about your mom?"

"It's...It's just one of those days.."

" _Aww_ ," she hugged him.

He wanted to pull away.

He was intensely terrified she would find his injuries.

 _Was his sleeve riding up?_

 _Had she seen it already?_

Paranoia roared so loudly in Barry's ears he could barely hear Iris...

"-I'll make some pop corn and we'll watch some John Wayne movies, and possibly a full night worth of Star Wars. Empire Strikes Back. All that jazz. And we'll have some ice cream. Although my dad may kill us. It's half past 11 pm. But who cares right?"

Not even a single breath after of air after 30 seconds of non-stop talking.

It was... _Iris_.

And somehow endearing.

His heart fluttered.

The truth escaped Barry's lips, "Iris... _I love you_."

"Aww," she smiled so bright it could have lit up Central City. "I love you too. Now. You pick out which movies you want to watch and I'll be right back."

Silence.

His heart was still thundering.

The gun was forgotten.

Iris made him... _so happy_.

He couldn't leave her.

Could never put her in the same pain he was in.

Barry wouldn't wish that on anyone.

He walked the other way into the living room.

Whether he liked it or not, Barry would have to live.

Live for everyone he cared about.

The pain could come.

But he wasn't leaving

- **CW-**

 **Author Notes: Hello, this is a reply to my reviewer, whose a guest on this website: Pplleeassee don't give up on me! No D: I have no plot! I sorta had one with the original (it's still up) but no plot. I don't know what to write. To everyone else, thank you, I didn't know how much this meant to you. But feel free to PM me any ideas you have. No...seriously. I need some lol. But I need a vote on whether to start over (again) finish the original Flash A Smile (which I'm interested in doing) or...figure something out with this one. So. Please vote :)**


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